A Battle to Remember
by We Will Avenge
Summary: Just a little thing I wrote, so far it's a oneshot but that might change. MODOC is after a doomsday device, and the only ones there to stop it are Tony Stark and Pepper, along with Agent Hill. But in their path is an undead and incredibly powerful Pet...the White Guard.


_So this is just a little thing I wrote 'cause I was bored, and it ended up better than I thought it would. Since I was too lazy to write down the beginning I'll explain now. Basically, MODOC has broken into the Vault, trying to get his hands on a weapon of mass destruction, the only ones there to stop it are Tony and Pepper, Tony not having his armor due to repairing on the suits (and suddenly this turned into 'Alone Against AIM'). Maria Hill was sent by Director Fury as a sort of body guard. At one point way back before this happened, Maria had sent to guards to distract some AIM geeks. One was found unconscious and the other was taken captive. MODOC used the guard for a crazy zombie experiment, making it the ultimate undead slave. And you can't kill what's already dead. Sooooo, yeah. Enjoy!_

The White Guard stood there, silent as a ghost, deadly as the plague.

Maria Hill whipped out her gun, taking a careful aim, and Tony followed suit. Pepper suddenly felt slightly useless.

"Miss Potts, Mr. Stark, get behind me if you will," Maria insisted, her tone urgent but calm.

They both backed up until they were behind the SHIELD agent. The White Guard took a step forward, trying to stop them, but Maria flashed her gun as a warning and he halted.

"You need to stop MODOC, "she said, keeping her voice low, her eyes never leaving her adversary. "I'll hold him off."

She drew her other gun and heard the two slip away quickly. The White Guard reached over his shoulder and drew a scythe.

She stepped slowly and carefully towards him.

"I ordered you to distract the AIM operatives, didn't I?" Maria asked quietly, her voice smooth, "You were one of the SHIELD soldiers assigned to us?"

He didn't reply. He didn't even move.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry about what happened to you. But we had to do it. And I'm sorry about what's going to happen to you, but that's inevitable as well."

The White Guard began to twirl his scythe and her eyes narrowed, her thoughts focusing on the weapon in her own hands.

Without warning, he lunged at her. She dodged to the side, moving behind him. She fired at him from behind, catching him in the back with a few bullets, but they bounced off his armor and sent a few sparks into the air. He whirled around, his body twisting as his scythe whistled over her head.

She ducked under the handle of the scythe, staying in close, where he couldn't maneuver the scythe, and where her advantage was.

His scythe glinted in the dim light, swiping back and forth with impossible grace and skill, blocking each of the bullets. His motions were lightning fast, but he was on the defensive. And one of her bullets would find it's way in any minute now.

A bullet sliced through his side and the White Guard stumbled back. She flashed him a smile as blood appeared on his coat. Then the wound began to darken, and a black stain moved over the red.

Maria's smile disappeared as the bleeding stopped altogether.

She backed up. There was a door behind her, and she pressed the trigger button to open it as the he advanced. The room beyond was filled with barred jail cells, and in these cells sat plenty of the most psychotic, powerless criminals the world has ever seen. They were in the West wing of the Vault.

The White Guard pursued her steadily up the steps, and Maria pulled the trigger of one gun. It clicked empty and she put it back into it's holster, checking to make sure her other gun had ammo. Only three bullets remained.

She looked around for another weapon to use. Meanwhile, the Guard was coming forward, quickly. She glanced and a sword on a weapons rack and snatched it. She had never used a sword before, and it felt very primitive to use, but she knew the basics: think of a sword as an extension of your arm or whatever. Thankfully she was better with a sword than she realized.

Their blades collided with such force it sent a shower of sparks flying.

The prisoners watched from their cells, and for the first few moments were confused. Guards like him were their jailers, and yet this one wore all white. And they recognized something about him, something that defined the White Guard as one of them. They shouted and jeered and Maria was forced backwards.

The Guard swung the handle of the scythe at her, and she was just barely able to block it. It slammed into her wrist and bruised it, and her wrist gave way. The White Guard took full advantage of the chance and the blade of the scythe passed across her stomach, drawing blood. The prisoners whooped.

She took a few steps back and hissed in pain. She recovered from the blow quickly and retreated under his impossibly fast onslaught, barely managing to keep up her defense. The White Guard swung his scythe, and she dodge-rolled out of the way. She came up out of the roll to see the scythe strike the ground where she once was.

The prisoners continued to howl with laughter and root for the White Guard, but a small number of them even tried to root for Maria, as if that would lead to their escape.

She knew full-well that it was a bad idea, but it was a stunt she'd been wanting to show off for weeks. She turned to the wall and carefully ran up it, clinging fast to the pipes and rafters on the ceiling. She panted, the trick using up a great deal of her energy, and with one last heave she pulled herself onto the pipes that lined the ceiling. They creaked a bit, but they were sturdy. Besides, the fall was only about eight feet. She hung down from the ceiling, her legs wrapped tightly around the pipes that miraculously supported her weight.

Some of the prisoners gawked as Maria swung the sword down on her opponent, and others just booed harder. Adrenaline pumped through her body, growing as the White Guard walked backwards, forced to attack and defend over his own head. Maria never gave him the chance to slash at the pipes. When she no longer reach him, she quickly swung to the next set of pipes, continuing the battle before he could close the gap between them.

He slashed and missed, and Maria saw her chance and took it. She jabbed at his left wrist with her sword and his hand opened, dropping the weapon. She swung and dropped to the ground carefully, and kicking him in the chest before he could recover. He staggered and Maria drove the sword into his chest.

The prisoners stopped cheering as the White Guard took a step backwards.

She picked up the scythe and and swung it, burying the blade in his chest. He fell to his knees, that black blood of his dripping to the floor. She looked down at him, feeling his eyes through his visor, feeling his weak gaze look back at her. Then his weight fell onto his haunches, his shoulders sagged, and his head lolled forward.

Maria pulled the sword from his chest and placed it back on the weapons rack where she had found it. She walked away down the corridor before the guilt could set in. The prisoners whispered all around her, cheated out of seeing her die. She narrowed her eyes and looked at a few, most silenced, their gaze dropping in solid respect. Others glared back at her.

She was almost to the end of the West Wing when she heard a crash from somewhere else in the corridor, and urgency leant her speed. She was so close to escape when one of the prisoners laughed.

Maria turned to see the White Guard standing, pulling the scythe from his chest.

_ 'He can't be stopped,'_ she thought, her heart pounding. '_You can't kill what's already dead.' _

She turned back to the door and ran as fast as she could. She slammed her hand down on the button on the wall and the metal door lifted. Her foot lifted to continue, but then her breath left her.

Maria frowned, willing her body to turn and look behind her, but it wouldn't listen. She looked down at the silvery tip of the scythe that protruded through her chest.

She cursed quietly to herself. She could hear the White Guard's footsteps approaching her. That was some throw. She almost laughed as her left arm went numb, her gun falling from her grip. He moved around her, observing her carefully, as if he were observing her pain. As if he was trying to remember what it felt like.

A twist of his hands and she was forced to her knees. She gasped as he removed his weapon, her red blood mixing with the black blood already on the blade. Her body was shutting down, and she wouldn't be able to defend herself.

The White Guard raised his scythe. Maria looked up, ready to die, and realized that when he had circled her, he had passed through the doorway and was standing in the other room.

She lunged for the button, slamming her hand on it, and shutting the door in his visored face. He pounded on it from the other side as her hands found the 'lock' button and forced it down.

She had failed. She had slowed him down but she hadn't stopped him, and now Loki had his attack dog back. Pain throbbed in her shoulder. She tried to stand, but her body couldn't take any more. She slumped to the ground, her breathing unsteady.

The prisoners whispered amongst themselves delightedly as blood seeped through her S.H.I.E.L.D uniform.

_Thank you so much for reading, writing is genuinely my favorite thing to do! I would love to hear any feedback in a PM or a comment! Also, I may or may not continue writing this depending on feedback. But it's very likely I'll make another chapter about what the hell Tony and Pepper were doing. THANKS!_


End file.
